


The Streets of Cyber Freaks

by vicelessvirgo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Artificial Intelligence, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Childhood Trauma, Crimes & Criminals, Drugs, Explicit Language, Graphic Description, Weapons of Mass Destruction, underground world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicelessvirgo/pseuds/vicelessvirgo
Summary: Destined for greatness, a pair of cousins have their successful underground world ripped from right under them. Sakusa and Komori have spent their lives tip-toeing around starving foxes.The streets of 5022 are difficult to live in if you aren't up to date with the latest technology. Unlucky for the cousins, who like their Boss, embrace tradition and hate the growing world of cyber-tech.Taking the odd jobs up from their own cyber mob and others, Sakusa and Komori are trying to regain their freedom. Though, one day they're offered a chance that can release their shackles, all they have to do is simple:Bring Miya Atsumu in dead or alive.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Kudos: 4





	1. foxes & weasels, I

**Author's Note:**

> yep, i;ve thought of this for a while and even begun to draw some of it out. regardless, there are descriptions of bullets through people, dead animals and violence already within this chapter.

Crime families sought sorrows of all kinds. Motoya and I found this out quickly, I mean we are the greatest sorrows our mothers created, born into a life of normalized violence.

We were meant to have our childhood to ourselves, grow alongside our fathers and learn the way of organized crime. Eventually, if we survived to our own coronations, we'd lived to become the leading figure of our families. I was meant to be the head of our family, to rule a grand portion of this country's underground world.

Except, Motoya and I got an alternative and shitty story.

The predators routinely eat the prey wholly. But amongst the predators? There was always an ongoing battle to see the new ruler of this twisted kingdom. Animals who wanted to survive either fought or adapted to change in their environments.

In this changing world, a new option emerged; where the predators became the prey. The only viable decision seeing that our families were slaughtered in a blood bath before our eyes. It hurts to think about how selfish our parents were, to conceive us only for the purpose of being some sort of heir. I wish we were never born, I damned my family for being involved with organized crime. With the downfall of our families, Motoya and I were nothing but wild prey scrambling to live, children forced to endure the pain. We were hopeless kids, faced with a choice and of course we took it, anything to survive. Even if it meant our own freedom. 

As I reflect on our childhood, I laugh. An ugly sound as my entire body moves with the rupture of my laughter. The snorts come out of my mouth, a hand hits my knee and I grip it as I rock back and forth with the force of my laugh. Any sounds coming from opened balcony letting in outside noise from the neon lit city, started to drown. My mouth is opened while the sound stops but I am frozen in place, unsure whether these tears are from joy or repressed sadness.

The choking sounds escape me as I remember how to breathe. The tears spill from my eyes endlessly, I can no longer see clearly. These are tears of sadness mixed with laughter, I'm not sure how to feel. My judgment is clouded from the memories and the whiskey burning my insides. From the looks of it, Motoya is unsure of how to feel as well. He moves my glass away from me, probably worried that my laughing fit will have my arm swat it away by accident.

"Um, is this stress from the job or..." Motoya trails off, his face trying not to twist into heavy concern. When I look at him, under this light of artificial light peering in from the neon signs plastered everywhere outside, it creates a shadow on him. Motoya no longer looks like an innocent boy, not that he ever has, but his youth is gone. These shadows emphasis his gaunt cheeks, his eyes sunken and disheveled hair.

His question registers and I want to laugh again. Of course, it's from the fucking job, but also everything else, he should know better than anyone. I face downwards into the carpet that desperately needs to be vacuumed, but the two of us can't be bothered to do it. Still from the corner of my eye I see him fiddling with his fingers and looking around, until his eyes settle for the picture frame on the TV's stand. Its of us as children. 

In the old days, flat screens like ours were of luxury but now? We'd get ridiculed for having space taken up by this monstrous piece of electronic. Nowadays, people who live comfortably enough by themselves, amongst others or even robots all have a holographic screen. They work the same way projectors used to, except on a smaller scale. Just this tiny metal box and voila, entertainment for you, the living and mechanical beings.

"I guess so, it's just-" I pause, my voice shakes and I feel small. "Just everything," I finish my sentence while reaching out for my glass to pour more whiskey, my cousin moves it further.

"Kiyoomi, drinking isn't going to sol-"

There's a loud crashing sound from the bottle of whiskey I have swatted off the table in anger. I hit my fist against the wooden coffee table, looking down and blinking furiously; the tears haven't left me yet.

"You don't think I don't have a clue? Fuck off 'Toya, you know the same as me. How the hell are we supposed to go about our shitty fucking lives like this?!" I yell, I don't mean to redirect my pent angered towards my cousin but it's convenient for me to do so right now.

He sighs and gets up to clean the mess, I feel guilty. "Yeah our lives are shit, but we can't change what's been set in stone. I know you don't want to hear my stupid motivational words, so why don't you talk for a change." He offers me a gateway to vent about our fallen family. I won't.

I shake my head, "What's the point? Talking isn't going to help us out, it's not going to put us back in the past and fix everything." 'Toya is silent, he knows he has me where he wants, talking. So I continue, "Won't fix the fact that we lost everything, that even now we're being watched at all times. I can't step outside without wanting to push over every single robot that comes into my sight, they're Osamu's and remind me too much of A-"

Him, the other Miya. I can't say his name out loud yet, none of us can. Fucking bastard.

"Osamu does well, plus we can't disrespect what he's doing for this country... World really." Motoya says quietly, I know he isn't fond of the robotic world we live in now either. Motoya also can't disrespect said twin since it's because of Osamu's brilliance that has an arm to replace to missing one. Thankfully he even got the left arm installed, state of the art technology and Motoya says it's like having the real one there still. He can still feel the objects he touches and any pain as well.

"I don't give a shit about his work, don't forget that they're the reason your arm is gone in the first place. I swear, if I ever get the chance I'll kill him." Motoya places his metallic hand on my shoulder and I look up to his hardened expression. He grips my shoulder painfully; his arm vibrates with what I can only assume is anger.

“There’s no need, I can deal with my own devils perfectly fine. The time will come.” We both know that’s a lie, our time is over.

“Tch, as much as I dislike Osamu, he had the right idea of selling his ideas and now look, the entire Inarizaki group thrives like no other. Bunch of sly bastards...” Motoya complains while removing his grip from me, looking towards the balcony. “They revolutionized A.I., changed the tech game and made Crypt bang.”

Crypt was a modern drug, not in the way that it was new to the streets but through mixing technology and drugs. Leave it to Miya Osamu to see the shitty parts of countries and brainstorm how to ruin people’s lives further. A devil in a suit offering the slums a new form of temporary happiness and numbness. He makes them addicted and sells it for cheap because he could care less about the money, the Miya’s had plenty of it growing up.

Osamu has a real knack for seeing people use his inventions, Crypt was just one of them. It was a cyber-drug that was quite literally inserted into you. Not the way you would shoot up old drugs, but have a whole chip reader placed into your body; usually side of your neck or arm. He'll sell the reader for a high price but the small chips that fueled the high through some sort of neuron hookup is what did it.

What made Crypt stand out wasn’t its cheap value, but it’s duration. One chip and these people found them in a comatose like high for days, left to live in another world. Simulated a reality where they had a chance.

Sure you can still get the drugs from the past, but who's smoking weed or doing lines of coke when Crypt is right there?

The younger Miya was the pride of Inarizaki, he’s the reason they’re not seen as your regular Cyber-Mob. Thanks to him, Inarizaki implemented themselves into politics easily, they're praised by locals because they give back to the community more than the government. Inarizaki were saviors for people of all sorts, offering protection, jobs, incomes, housing and all. Hell, they have grandmothers speaking lovely of them and defending their fronts for money. A group of sly bastards who took advantage of the weak after blinding them with fake actions of care and kindness.

“Anyways, you were saying something about the job being stressful before you started throwing a fit.” Motoya fills the silence, and it’s my turn to sigh.

“Inarizaki are playing with fire, getting too close to what they said they wouldn’t do, trafficking. I’m not exactly fine with taking people hostage only for Boss to just say kill and harvest the brain.” I shudder at the thought of the job again, so young but does that matter to Inarizaki? No, you betray them and it’s all over quickly.

Plus, just an excuse to get the brains of the deceased. Brains are used for Osamu's research in developing better A.I., making them as sentient as possible. Also, for another sick purpose. He brings these murdered people back to life and wipes their memories of ever being killed, they'll live their lives as robots. Like I said, gets him horny for being smart and having his work praised.

“How old?” I don’t want to answer truthfully, but I do. “16.”

“Fuck, how are these kids running around that young and getting into Inarizaki’s business like this? Thought Boss didn’t care about the young hackers.” I thought the same, but I was wrong.

“He isn't exactly fond of these kids plotting against him, especially if they're hackers. Even if it’s some joke or not, he sees conspiracy against him as a threat, you know just like... the traditional ways.” I explain, annoyed that I find myself justifying our Boss’s decision.

“Tradition is the only reason Boss keeps us alive, everyone knows us three hate tech. His family ran deep with ours, bunch of conservative freaks with gang business.” That’s true.

The old days of crime never involved tech, everyone moved in silence and efficiently. You were either born for the lifestyle or booted. Roles assigned to you based on every skill you had, rigorous training and punishment. Tradition is why Inarizaki became involved with politics, because our families had valued business through actual means instead of straight fear and violence. The pioneers of political corruption if you will, bending politicians and business people over their desk and screwing them. That’s how you get real power, when you become part of the institution and enhance it. You gain the trust of the public by playing the game of politics and stay in power because of that trust.

I lean back into the sofa, it’s late now and we have a messy job tomorrow, supposedly. Boss uses Motoya and I for grueling jobs on purpose just to get under our skin. I think the worse job was being stranded at some farm house and having to torture innocent families for information they clearly didn’t have. Their screams are etched into my mind, the blood all over my hands and their bodies, the bloody tools and disgusting smell of corpses out in different rooms.

Why go through it if we were stranded? No, we weren’t alone during that time. Our Boss came to make sure Motoya and I inflicted horrible pain onto those people. Boss knew they didn’t know shit; he was testing us. Tradition involved training and punishment, he was training our endurance to kill and torture at his command. After all, we are nothing but his little weasels, pets to carry out his every will without a complaint.

I hope to not see him tomorrow, considering Boss hasn’t contacted us for months. Left us with nothing ever since the incident. I know he blames me for it, or well I'm the only one that can be blamed since the other party is gone.

“You think the job will be easy at least?” I ask Motoya who I hear shuffling around with the broom, cleaning the remaining pieces of glass. He snickers and looks up at me from his crouched sweeping position.

“It’s Kita, when is the job ever easy.”

Ain’t that the truth.

* * *

Together, we open the package that was sent to us for this mission. There on our breakfast bar, we uncover the sleek designed box. This design belongs to Osamu, the _Miya Corporation_ symbol and wording engraved into it.

Inside, we find a morbid sight, but that stench is unbearable. The smell hits us right away and we both scrunch our noses up at it. Their fur is all dried up from what I can only make an educated guess on, blood. It sticks up and just looks hard to the touch, one of them is black while the other sports a brown coat. Little beady eyes that don't move or blink. We're looking at dead weasels. Motoya quickly places the lid back on and pushes the box to the side.

My heart breaks a little, I love animals and to see them like this...

“You’d think they’d stop threatening us. Whose idea was thi-” He pauses as he finds his answer. There’s only one asshole in Inarizaki’s inner circle who would have found this funny, someone who spends their time keeping Motoya under their feet. None other than Suna "Styx" Rintarou.

Styx like the river, as he's the boundary between life and death for most. Inarizaki's top executioner, in both traditional and cyber methods. One look at him and you're averting your eyes, even those sweet old grandmas from before can't defend him. Anyone with common sense or decent software can tell he's walking evil.

“Dickhead.” I let out, “He isn’t even creative anymore about threatening us anymore, must have lost the last screws in his head.” I finish, now opening the envelope that came with said box.

_Hello,_

_We’re not exactly caring if you kill them all since, they're our own, but we need you to test the effectiveness of my_

_newest design._

_But I do need you guys to make sure that these items are quietly accurate in the way I want them to be. You’ll understand after the first use._

_Oh, and Kita won’t be there. Still, try to treat it as if he was there, but the number of dead don’t matter._

_-_

_Osamu._

“What items?” Motoya asks, he points to the box and says “that’s the only package we got sent.”

I roll my eyes knowing that we would have to move the layer the weasels were on, likely under them. Opening the box again, I tried to go about moving the animals without actually touching them. Gloves weren't going to help the fact that the germs of dead weasels were going to get on mine and Motoya’s hands.

We both picked one weasel out and placed them on the lid. Now that we could flip over the box above the garbage to avoid any cross-contamination, Motoya barely caught the two items that fell out. They were just pistols, wrapped up to keep them clean from the rotting animals. So Osamu must have known Suna was going to send them if he put this much effort to keep his precious toys clean.

“Guns? Not really innovative coming from Osamu.” I flatly let out, maybe the engineer is losing his mind.

“What are we gonna do about these guys?” ‘Toya asks in reference to the weasels.

“I don’t know, dress them up and send them back to Suna? Or make him eat them somehow?” I shouldn’t joke about these dead animals, but hey, I wouldn’t mind seeing the look on Suna’s face after he’s discovered he’s just scran down some dead animals.

“Well, I’m not letting these guys just rot on our counter, we’ll just have to dump them in the woods somewhere.” I grumble to his suggestion but follow up with, “Fine but wrap them up in plastic, I don’t need to catch any residue in the van”

Motoya makes haste of his time to prepare the weasels and box before we head out. It’s not even 7 A.M. yet.

The destination itself is some rundown warehouse real far from our place, perfect area to get rid of those weasels.

I decide to just pull up to the front of the building and park there, no one else is here so the threat of getting into some scrap isn't on my mind. Motoya takes the box with him and motions that'll he take a second before returning. He walks to the far left of the building and dumps the animals, as he gets up he just stares. I know he tried to act like the threat didn't bother him earlier, but for him... This is something more.

Motoya tries to stay clear of Suna most days but Inarizaki are all dirty, they'll forcefully pair them together. Always have and always will, probably until the day Toya dies. I know he's traumatized to this day, a grown man who wakes up in tears or refuses to sleep because his memories will pop up during his dreams. Nothing pretty either. Knowing that Styx personally has an interest in you and watches with those cold of eyes his sure isn't something everyone can live with.

My cousin makes his way back with a far look in his eye, I'm not going to push it so I simply lean off the car and head for the entrance.

As we walked in slowly, we were greeted with our mission. People tied to chairs and blindfolded, ready to be killed. I gulp and realize how dry my throat is. Being a hitman for Inarizaki and everyone else is restless. 

“Hello?” Some woman cries out; we don’t answer her. Motoya motions for me to follow him back out for a moment. When we reach the front of the barn door, he whispers to me.

“You got to be kidding me, these are the people we took as hostages from the other mobs. Girl that just talked is Eita’s girlfriend. Why the fuck did Kita send us to kill his hostages? To use all these people as fucking target practice?”

Kita’s intentions are to pin us for the murders of these hostages, an easy way out for the inner circle to go without blame. I shrug and went back inside while loading the pistols with the very weirdly designed bullets Osamu provided. Motoya shook his head before following suite.

Eita’s girlfriend speaks up once again, “You’re going to kill us, aren’t you? That’s what the green eyed one told us, called us livestock.”

Suna would taunt these poor souls and leave them for dead, probably fed them gruesome details and barely touch them to scare them. I assume Aran was there to keep him in check, before Suna killed them all for his own amusement.

Still, we position ourselves behind these individuals and place the guns to their temples. The ones under our touch tremble in fear, crying and staining through the cloth covering their eyes. They thrash around in the chair to no avail, begging to be spared. I blink when I pulled the trigger first, feeling the blood land on my face, my mask might be stained.

When I bring the gun away from the head, the bullet hole makes me frown. I hated seeing how much blood could come pooling out of a small thing. I'm stuck on the way the blood drips out and feel ill to my stomach. Killing is never easy, even as a trained professional. Motoya and I have a decent amount of morality in us to feel like monsters after massacres. Not an excuse though.

“The fuck?” Motoya said out loud, I turn and furrow my eyebrows in annoyance, why was he talking?

“It didn’t sound at all, the gun.” He explains. Motoya lets go of the persons head and walks back, putting impressionable distant between him and the thrashing man.

I see the impact and the man’s head go limp, but Motoya was right. There was no blast sound _at all_ , no indication that someone had just fired or killed someone. A silencer that actually silenced noise instead of suppressing it. This gun was one of surprise.

There was something else that caught my eye, it was a perfect shot. This was rare from Motoya who's headshots were always right leaning; this was dead center. I decide to test something out. I step back to Motoya’s place and purposely aim above the head of the next victim. A regular bullet would have missed, but still, the person slumps down in murder.

“... Heat seeking? Or is it something else? You just saw me purposely miss.” I tell Motoya as he nods in agreement. The guns are just regular pistols, but using this type of technology on larger guns would do some serious damage. Scary.

There are 4 more people left to kill and Eita’s girlfriend was amongst them. I was going to shoot her next but the words that come out her mouth irk me.

“Cowards, won’t even show your fucking face to us. C’mon, let me see you, I’m going to die here anyways.” I undid her blindfolds and she took in my face.

“The blood suits you Sakusa.” As she spat at my face, I cringe at the action and wipe her saliva off with the back of my hand, this only smears it around my face. “You know what else would suit you?” I hum to acknowledge her, Motoya finishes off the last victim, and makes his way to leave the warehouse.

“The fact I know the Global Embassy incident was supposed to leave you dead, not with Atsumu escaping as a fugitive and wanted man.” I frown, how does she know about the incident?

In the same moment she finished her sentence an anger consumes me. His name throws me into a rage. Without hesitation I pistol whip her, part of the gun gets her nose and it begins to drips. Her red cheek faces me before her head swings back into place and then she laughs.

“Now what? Atsumu’s gone and wanted by all, when you both should have been dead on the spot. How did you do it Sakusa? Escaping such a place and abandoning Ats-” I hit her harder with the gun again, just beside her eye where it'll leave another nasty bruise as she rots. The name and incident boil my blood like no other. 

“Shut your fucking mouth up. What happened at the Embassy was nothing but a mistake. He knew what he was getting into, everyone knew how he went off the rails.”

Her nose bleeds profusely now as she attempts to sniffle it back in. She glares through the hair falling in front of her face, one more hit and I would have knocked her out.

"What about you? Are you off the rails too? Everyone knows the partnership you guys had, no one seen anything like it in Cyber-Mobs, tell me, was that stunt to piss off Kita?”

“Why are you talking about this?” A gut feeling emerges, something tells me that it's odd that the girlfriend of a mob member should know this much. Hostage or not, why did she know about the Embassy?

She laughs, “Because Atsumu told me himself.” Motoya interjects before I can, “Atsumu hasn’t been seen in Japan for over 2 years, and you’re a recent hostage. You’re lying.” I want to believe Motoya accusing her of lying but something tells me not to.

My mind flutters back to Osamu's letter, stating how we didn't have to kill everyone in the room. Is this what he meant? I was trying to think if there was any ulterior motive to them telling her about the Embassy. There isn't.

The next second, the pistol is right against her forehead.

"Without lying this time bitch, tell me why you're talking about this." I'm sneering, because why does someone so useless know a valuable piece of information about me. One that I'm trying to run away from to this day.

"I'm telling you, Atsumu told me. As he was tying me up, he told us all." Bullshit. He's gone. Has no value showing his face here again.

"I hope you don't lie your way into Heaven." I say before pulling the trigger. Turning and asking Motoya to specifically clean her body up before we dump them. I kick a crumbled can as I walk away, shoving the pistol into my pocket.

He wouldn't just return like that, I tell myself. 


	2. Foxes & Weasels, II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might seem a little off after the last, because haha, this was actually the original first chapter but I found it to be too direct into the plot so I opted to keep it for second. But that means I also had to alter a bit of what was originally there to fit the story a bit. so moments where it talks about osamu, it may seem like he was never introduced in the first chapter. 
> 
> as always, tw // violence, blood, death and the typical bloody underground world.

I open my eyes and find myself staring at the grey skies, clouds darker than ever. I inhale, the storm should be starting soon. 

Turning my head side to side, I groan in disgust having realized that my entire body was lying on top of the filthy back alley of a club. I slowly bring myself up, no thanks to the pounding in my head that now disorientates me. The stench back here is disgusting and I want to puke with every sniff I take. 

I decide to take my mask off, it’s pretty much ruined at this point. You know since it’s covered in blood from taking a punch straight to the nose and of course me coughing it up. 

“Fucking mobs, never gets any easier.” I say to no one in particular, expect for maybe the corpses that accompany me in this alleyway. I take a headcount and there are 4 men; dead and sprawled out. I can’t even be bothered to spare them a second look. 

“Gotta get out…. And get this cleaned…” 

I also realize I can’t just waltz onto the main roads looking the way I do. Clothing soaked in blood, gloves completely red, oozing of oxidizing metal, bruises on my face and a slight limp. All this just for a couple grands, was it worth it? Well yeah, Motoya and I want to live the next few months without worrying about our financial situation. So, it was my turn to take on role of playing hitman. 

My hand digs into my pocket as I lean against the grimey walls for support. I then scowl further because I’ve just noticed how much blood stains my gloves. In a haste of anger I take them off and throw them at the ground.

As I grumble in more annoyance of my latest job, I manage to pull up the holographic screen of a phone ringing, waiting to be picked up. It stops and the screen buzzes around as the pixels make out my cousin's face. 

“It’s like 6 A.M. dude, why they hell aren’t you back yet, it’s…” I see his face looking up to the left, “Sunday.” I left Thursday afternoon.

“Yeah, get ready to personally clean this mess yourself or have someone else do it for you.” I turn and show Motoya the bodies lying dead. 

“Jesus Kiyoomi, a little over the top no?" My cousins concerned face pops up, those big eyes of his, thick eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. I sigh. 

"Nothing I can't handle, expect last night didn't really go to plan." 

"I'll say, you look like shit." Ah, the kind words of family. 

"Thanks Motoya... Anyways, when do you think you can get this cleaned by?" 

"Where you at again?" He asks with a slightly sour face, he hates having to travel far to clean. It wouldn't shock me if he sends someone else in his stead. 

"Miyagi." My cousin rolls his eyes, he moves out of the hologram's reach but I hear the clicks and taps of a keyboard. When Motoya's figure shuffles back into my spatial area, he's not as cheery. 

"6 A.M on a Sunday and you're wanting me to come to Miyagi when I'm perfectly fine in Osaka." I give a curt nod. 

"Thank you Motoya, and can you bring me anything to fix up my appearance." 

"God you're more demanding than our mothers." 

"And yet we're still related, I'll be waiting." 

"Yeah yeah, I'll be there." The digital graphics fuzz away to leave me looking straight at the brick wall that feels like it's closing in on me. 

I look up once more and sigh deeply as a rain droplet hits my cheek and slides off my face. The rain will only make these bodies grosser to deal with smell wise but it'll wash the blood away for the most part. 

I start off Motoya's job by moving the bodies close to another for easier packaging. Pat them down for one final search of anything valuable. Just cash but it doesn't hurt to take their whole wallets. I reach into my jacket to pull out a folded cloth bag and dig out the wipes to get any left over blood off.

The rain droplets start to hit my face and I'm miserable. This job wasn't worth getting ill from rainwater, nothing ever is. Still, I have no choice but to take refuge in this alleyway until Motoya arrives, since I had to abandon the escape car last night. 

The mist the rain creates illuminates the neon coming from everywhere. Even in Miyagi, a countryside of Japan, technology prevails. I hate it. 

My curls dampen and flop onto my hair, no doubt to be a frizzy mess anytime soon. I can only hope I don't catch some godforsaken illness right now. I'd like to smoke now but the heat and coldness of the rain isn't the smartest idea now. What I should do is warm myself as much as I can and shield myself from the rain. As I look around in the alleyway, there isn't anything particularly umbrella-like so I make do with hanging my blazer up against trash cans and sit underneath it huddled. I close my eyes for just a bit longer. 

  
  
  


When I wake up, it's with a soft touch on my shoulder. 

"Kiyoomi, c'mon you'll get sick this way." My eyes flutter out of tiredness and adjustment to the bright grey clouds. It stopped raining. 

My eyes make out the light brown hair of my cousin. He looks at me with concern. I reach my hand to move his hand off my shoulder. Here I realize how soaked my clothes are, how they stick to my skin. That wet clinging is disgusting and makes me want to not move any further. 

"Here, I'll wrap you in these towels. Just sit still." Motoya pulls cloths from the bag he's holding, the first pats around my hair and scrunches my curls. The next few are wrapped around me and are squeezed to get most of the water off. He hands me a facial towel and I pat my skin dry. 

Motoya helps me up and moves me inside of his gracious truck. I notice the alley is cleaned, bodies and blood gone. My cousin must know what I'm about to ask. 

"I thought to clean them up first before waking you up. You know since you're all…wet.." He avoids the word dirty, "Deal with one thing at a time you know?" I nodded, a relief off my chest. 

It's when I'm in front of his passenger door does he throw a giant bag my way. I open it to find clothes, creams, sanitizers, masks, shoes and much more all packed in smaller air sealed bags.

"I'll turn, just holler when you're done changing." I reluctantly peel off my dress shirt, my pale chest exposed to the world. Next comes the bottom half of my attire. I'm naked in an alleyway and feel watched, in an age where there's only technology, you can't help it. 

Dressing myself in loose black sweatpants, forest green pullover, thick warm socks and some sneakers, I am warm again. I lean into the cushions of the seat and Motoya turns the truck on.

"So, mind telling me which one of them employed you personally. Though I have my suspicions, seeing how our last weeks have been going." My cousin asks.

"Kita." A hum comes from Motoya, it tells me I have confirmed his assumptions. "No one else who loves tradition as much as us." He says, I let out a, "Yeah." 

"Forever in debt." We both mumble. 

"Should we get something to eat?" He asks me, part of me wants to say no, I just want to get into our apartment and sleep the rest of the week. ‘Toya turns the van into auto-drive and starts looking in a bag behind his chair, he pulls out a few snacks and offers me it. I take them and eat to my hearts content. 

We take this time to look through the wallets of the deceased. I inspect the identities closely, no one we’ve been made aware of. Who knows what Inarizaki are dealing with now. Though there's something wrong with one of the ID photos, I can't place it but the face is also familiar. I show Motoya he grabs it with the prosthetic arm but hands it back once he shrugs it off. The longer I look at it I feel more nostalgic, as if I was in a liminal space.

We've returned to Osaka, but Motoya informs me that he has other _cleaning_ jobs from other mobs. He's hesitant to leave but I've seen the way his phone kept flashing, he’s being demanded. He tells me to take care and I return the saying. He leaves but not before grabbing few more pistols stocked around our place. I ask him to where he’s gone and he says Tokyo. It’ll be a few days before I see him again I assume. 

I hated Tokyo the most, technology there was too advanced. The robots that walked alongside the humans, most learned to live with them but we never did. Motoya and I would resist them forever.

The robots that I watch from my bedroom window make their way by, they're programmed too. I always scowl at them just a bit more, wonder who's watching now. The holograms of people pop up everywhere, holographic screens and much more. 

I find myself interested in one A.I. in particular, it’s paused right outside our building. I see it’s head move up and I know it’s looking for me, as it finishes scanning for me, it points to a big screen showing an ad. 

We always feel intensely watched, hyper aware of the technology around us no matter what, this is why. 

The ad would look like any normal makeup one on a billboard, but I catch it. The coded words that subtly pop up, a message meant for me and me only. They know Motoya is gone, probably waited for a perfect moment. Just tells me they’ve watch us go from Miyagi back here. Listened in on Motoya’s or probably even my side to plan this. 

When I glance down for the robot, it’s gone. Typical. I guess I’ll have to make plans to the next place already. Though, a fucking nap sounds fantastic right now.

  
  
  
  


In my bed I toss and turn, get up often to recheck the same blind spots or new spots over and over again. No cameras, no tap, no wires. I look out my window and the neon lights illuminate nothing special. My eyes desperately strain for a red light leading to my forehead, a flicker in a window or on a roof. The odd shadow out of place, anything weird but nothing sticks out. 

As I decide to slump down on our couch to eat some dinner, my eyes catch the photo on the TV stand that Motoya looked at a couple weeks earlier. Before my fit of course. A picture frame holds a photo of myself and Motoya as children. The only photo of us from then.

_"Kiyoomi! Motoya!" My mother called out. We were out in the back garden, watching the fish in the pond._

_"Yes aunty?" Motoya yelled back, "Just looking for you two, continue playing!" and we did. Played like normal children, unaware of what the rest of the day would bring us._

_Even at our age of 7, we knew what our families were a part of. We were birthed into known names, into organized crime families. It also didn't take me long to realize my older sister was always by our father's side to learn the mob way._

_As a girl she would have been exempted from becoming the next heir, because of her gender. The other crime families would never take her seriously and yet she begged my father that she rather be heir than have me learn. She claimed it was her duty as the eldest sibling. My father heard her out and she became our father's shadow. Motoya's mother, my aunt, voiced her displeasure about my sister's decision._

_"Have you lost your mind?" She questioned my father, who ignored her raising voice. The adults would never know I heard all their words at night when they thought I slept._

_"She's a child and a girl! You'll have her killed as a joke before she's 20." My sister was 16 at the time. Though, by my place on the top of the stairs she gave me a scare. My sister lurked around quietly like a mouse, no one ever knew where she hid or was. She sat beside me with watery eyes._

_"You know Kiyoomi, you can tell me anything you don't want mom and dad to hear about. I am your sister… older sister." She told me, as she opened her arms to me. Comfort, she wanted comfort._

_This is how I found 7 year old me in the arms of my crying sister as our family cursed her decision, taking actions to send her off to another country, to hide her permanently before she did get killed._

_"I won't let them touch you." I told her, she stopped her noise. "How so?"_

_"I'll kill them first." I felt her tense but she let loose after, "You're too small to do that." She laughed._

_Either way, I thought about my sister when I saw the fish swim around in the pond. Trapped, restricted, unnatural._

_Regardless, our families had been in the underground world for generations. One of the oldest, always used to tradition, refusing to have robots do our jobs._

_Motoya's family were slightly more accepting of them, no fault of his mother. My father always told me to stay away from her and those robots in their house. I think Motoya enjoyed being at my family's home more than his, the things there were real and not some computerized image._

_At 7 years old we knew our family were powerful. From being escorted to school and home, the men and women who walked the perimeters of our house. The way people on the streets begged our fathers for help. The odd mistake of a beggar touching either Motoya, my sister or I to listen to their pleas. I saw my father's action to signal the men that followed us. I noticed how that beggar was never there again whenever we walked that path._

_It was seeing people on T.V. come to our house. Women and men dressed nicely and sat where the adults spoke alone. Some brought suitcases, others bags, others boxes that looked real heavy. My dad always sent me outside to play when a person was roughly brought in. I could only assume._

_I was never able to tell Mob from regular people until my mother wore an off the shoulders dress one day. Black ink covered a majority of where her skin would have been. I then started to notice that she wore longer skirts but when seated the ink continued to poke out._

_Black ink full of designs I started to see on my family members, including my sister. It looked pretty but something made me think that I wouldn't want it on me._

_"Kiyoomi!" Motoya yelled in my face, waved his hand frantically. I was still looking at the fish._

_"Aunty is calling us inside." We made our way into the house, wooden panels creaked slightly under our weight. Today was the day my sister would have been shipped off. Apparently it was dangerous lately, a new family wanted power and all of it._

_We entered the living space and saw our family members there. My eyes fell on my older sister who looked gloomy, staring at her lap with furrowed eyebrows. My mother only rubbed circles on her back._

_My father looked at me and said, "Kiyoomi, it's time your sister leaves. We have to say bye." I didn't want to._

_There may have been an age gap between us but siblings have a connection. As young as I was, I didn't want her to go. I didn't want to pass by her empty room and know it would always be empty. I would miss the way she ruffled my hair, gave me more food during dinner, taught me how to survive._

_"Why not a photo?" My aunt expressed, a murmur of agreement came from everyone. There on the table my aunt set her phone and allowed the software to take control. My father "tch" at the technology._

_Motoya and I sat at both sides of my sister, him already clinging onto her, as she had to bring me closer to her in a side hug. Our parents behind us, my father's inked hands came on both mine and my sister's shoulders. It's when the picture snapped, does my father push us onto the floor._

_Bang. Bang._

_"Take them out now!" My father yelled at my sister, referring to Motoya and myself. I saw the fear in her eyes but she nodded and grabbed our wrists. My sister ran like the wind with us barely keeping up with her pace. When we've reached the opposite end of our house, my sister pushed us in first and opened up a cabinet._

_It was full of weapons._

_My sister had grabbed what I guessed was a gun. Though she also grabbed these smaller ones and held them out._

_She looked at Motoya and I. "I don't know what's going on," she admitted, "but it's not good… we'll have to keep running. Just remember, if you see me in a bad situation, to just go and run as far as you can. You know my hiding spots, Kiyoomi." I did._

_There were more gunshots, echoed but certainly closer. People yelled loudly and I was scared shitless._

_"I wish I didn't have to do this but I don't know what's happening." She told us the basics of the guns, press the small little thing at the bottom and the bullet would come out. A quick explanation on aiming and I nodded with a racing heartbeat._

_She looked out the door into the hall, she told us to get ready to try and escape for the forest our house also held. In the forest, in a high tree my sister had an abandoned tree house. A better shot with high ground. The entire time I couldn't hear any sounds coming from my sister, truly scary. The way she ran and limited her body movements._

_We made it out onto the veranda, she frantically looked around and told us to also look out for certain tells. Everything I learnt was from my sister._

_Motoya was eerily quiet. Something I was not used to._

_All 3 of us ran across the small section that would have gotten us to our safety. Would have._

_It's when we ran into the forest did my sister fall in front of us with a loud shout of pain coming out of her. My heart stopped and I saw her source of pain. It wasn’t a bullet that wounded her but a bear trap. She shouted incoherently and cursed the Gods._

_The sight of her foot caught in metal, bleeding out and her unable to move because the pain was too unbearable and froze me. Still she managed to shout at us to climb the tree and to be careful of any other traps._

_It was odd, no one in this day used bear traps. Our family has never hunted with these methods. There was no need too, not when you're at the top with those scared of you._

_Motoya took the lead and climbed as I didn't want to leave my sister in pain. She pushed me away and yelled, her cries of me to go away would haunt me for years to come. The tree against my small hands was rough, but we reached the top and into the house._

_Someone knew my sister's hiding spots. Someone had been watching us. Waiting like the old time hunters. A new predator we never heard of._

_Motoya and I foolishly peaked out the window of the tree house. As we looked we could see my family house catching fire. Bodies lying on the ground and those trying to flee only to be hit by arrows. We watched it happen and I noticed this detail._

_There were no automatic machines or robots involved. These were trained hunters. Savages, those who could kill without mercy._

_We peered down at my sister, she struggled to take the trap out and the blood spread onto her hands. Out of a bush appears a group of people approaching her and as much as I wanted to yell my voice was gone. Motoya hid us further in but we still watch._

_My sister looked at them with pleading eyes, her mouth moved. A hand of her reaches up but it's cut off as quickly as it came up. A sword._

_My body shuts down, her hand is detached from the rest of her body as she continues to yell in horror. The leader of the group moved their mouth before piercing her with the blade between her eyes. A silent cry came from me, as Motoya tried to push me away from looking any further._

_I saw her body slump against the leaves, grass and wildflowers. The leader only pointed up and one of the others climbed our tree. Someone had certainly been watching us._

_The weapons my sister had given us are useless in the shaking fearful hands of children. The woman who found us forced us to climb down, once on the ground she bound our hands with rope and pulled us forward. The group led us back to my burnt home._

_A man stands with a small boy, perhaps a year older than Motoya and I. The boy's golden eyes watched us, ever so stoic._

_"Don't be rude Shinsuke, say hello." The man directed towards the silver haired boy, he bowed._

_The man in a yukata, smiled down at Motoya and I._

_"How about I make you two boys a great deal?"_

The deal will end up lasting the rest of our lives. It's what binds Motoya and I to Kita Shinsuke even after we've vowed to try and retire from mob now turned cyber-mob business. The deal is how I even met Miya Atsumu and all the others. The deal is why we are in debt. Not to Inarizaki, to Kita Shinsuke. 

The deal places Shinsuke as our owner. 

A young boy with less emotions than I, became the leader of his family by the time he was 14. He's 27 now and the most brutal man I know alive.

Motoya and I were 26 now, but the 19 years under the Kita family were living hell. 

Kita wasn't the most wanted crime boss, but he sure as hell was the most feared man in World. 

  
  
  


Now the next morning came real quick, quicker than I would have liked. So I decided to start off with the first of my options. 

Number one, call Kita Shinsuke. 

I don’t use my regular phone for this, rather a burner phone. In the past these phones were considered smart but now? They’re useless, but because it’s traditional Kita would prefer it this way, so would I. 

The buzzing tone against my ear plays fully until it cuts out, he won’t answer me. He’s a busy man, it’s no surprise. 

Number two, call Miya Osamu.

Here was someone I wanted to avoid, one for the fact that he looked exactly like the ghost in my mind and because that last mission testing his weapons put me on edge.

Most know Osamu as the twin of the most wanted criminal, the brilliant engineer turned CEO. Being a businessman of great value, he’s close with politicians. He’s friends with the same people who want his twin dead. The way all of our lives split with the missing twin is interesting. 

Either way, the hologram shifts into Osamu’s bored face. I hate talking to him.

“Sakusa.” His monotonous voice peers through, the static doesn’t help it. 

“Your twin in town or something, why do you need me?” I question, you have to be direct with the Inarizaki Yakuza. I can respect that. 

“If he was, he’d be under my foot.” 

“Look Osamu, there’s no need for a reunion when we always operate remotely. What do you need?” I hold my voice firm, his digitialized form rolls his eyes. 

“It’s about Eita’s girlfriend.” He answers me and looks at me, “I’m sure she talked and you not pissing all over my desk about it is shocking me.” 

“Shocking you? How the fuck do you think I reacted when she went off about the Embassy, about the things your twin di-” He cuts me off.

“What you _two_ have done in the past.” He corrects me, ouch. Okay Kiyoomi, stand your ground. Be affirmative. 

“I want to know why she knew and why we had to even kill those hostages, especially her. Shiratorizawa’s been nothing but trouble lately ever since then.”

“We have our ways.” He pauses before using two fingers to push his glasses up. “If you’re looking for Kita you might as well just come on down to Hyogo. Ain’t nothing else I can do for you Sakusa.” 

The hologram disappears. I grumble, “Fucking shithead.” I hate them all. 

Number three, go to Hyogo survive the days down there without being killed by the rest of Inarizaki. Easy. 

  
  
  
  


My suit is ironed precisely, I am groomed and well put together. I hesitate whether or not to tell Motoya my location. I don’t. So, I climb onto the train and keep a watchful eye. A bot slides it’s way to me, I mentally groan. It stands in front of me and I peer down at the screen. It’s coded. 

Of course Osamu would be tracking my movements right now. The code essentially says that he rather I wait for him _there_ before barging into Inarizaki’s safehouse. I kick the robot by _accident_ , it falls over and people stare at it worried. Idiots. I play with the rings on my fingers. 

The only upside about technology now, is that it was useful in killing others. As a hitman trained both traditionally and digitally, everything was a weapon to me. Digital killing was less of a mess but because Kita adores tradition, Toya and I have to get dirty once in a while. 

Once I’m in Hyogo, I begrudgingly make my way to where Osamu would be. He wants me to wait at his childhood home. A place I despised, core traumatizing events happened there.

_“Kiyoomi! Atsumu! Again!” The man yelled, “Again! Again! Again!” he spat at us, kicking us to the ground easily. My blade kicked in front of me, Atsumu was the first to get off the ground and started running for me. Idiot._

_10 year old Atsumu thought he had me, thought that I was vulnerable. I wait until the tip of his blade is approximately a head above me, that stupid glint of secured victory in his eyes. My legs kicked up into his stomach and sent him flying onto his back as I jumped, his forehead so easy to pierce right through. I didn't though, I shifted my aim over and the blade got stuck in the wooden floor._

_It earned me a shove to my ribs and being yelled at, “If you’re go to kill him then fucking kill him!” the man yelled at me._

_“If that’s how you’re going to be, then watch Shinsuke fight Atsumu!”_

_“No.” I firmly stated._

_“Then hit him, again!” Atsumu got up, we sparred for hours._

We were children when we met another. Except Motoya and I were trea- were slaves to them. The hunters became the hunted. They had us eating from their palms as kids, even to this day Kita treats us just as bad, worse if anything. 

The memory has me sick to the stomach, it grumbles and jolts around, gastric acid building.

“Bad memory?” A voice calls out, it’s Osamu. He sits beside me on the swing on their veranda. Pulls out a cigarette and offers me one, I’m smarter than to take from him. I shake him off. 

“It would be like you to end up on this swing.” He says. 

The rest may have put our traumatic childhood behind us but Motoya and I couldn’t, they never got the short end of the stick. They weren’t treated like animals, like disgusting vermin. 

“Except I’m not the one who would sit here, there was usually a lot more blood splattered on the wood here too.” Osamu is trying to provoke me, I let him ramble on. 

Any wrong move or word means I have to face Kita. Not again. Not ever again. I squeeze my hands within another. Osamu gets up and gestures for me to follow him, it’s like those days all over again. 

In his automated car, it drives itself to their safehouse. I look out the window but can sense the way Osamu’s hungry eyes linger on me from time to time. He can’t kill me, it’s not in his place to do so. He craves it but that would only cause him trouble. I wonder how he thinks about killing me. Osamu wasn’t trained but was ready enough, no match for me. When his hand touches my thigh I know he’s content like a sick freak, he knows how much I hate being touched and yet this is as far as he can go. 

I’m still prey to them after all. 

Osamu loses his bloodthirst and goes to play with his digital screen, working on some other robot. I catch glimpses of his work, it’s complicated but interesting. The closer we get, the more prominent the pit in my stomach grows. I haven’t seen Kita directly in months. 

Kita’s home is in front of me. Grand like a castle, a mockery. It’s laid out like my childhood home. Osamu tosses me a bag, “Tradition.” Ah yes. So we both changed in his car into yukatas. Osamu’s exposed chest shows his black ink, nothing like his brothers. My ink is still hidden, thank the spirits. As we step into the humble home of an evil person, the rest of the foxes stare me down like dinner. The worst of them all? Suna.

“Why’s weasel here?” He asks Osamu, his green eyes boring into my black ones. I won’t break this eye contact, I will kill this bastard one day. 

“He’s acting a bit weird.”

“Too bad Toya isn’t here, I’ve been missing him.” Suna without looking away and stuttering, smirks as he lets his comment out.

My fist clenches. If there’s anyone who practically destroyed my beloved cousin’s mental strength it was Suna. Yet, I can’t slice that throat of his and see him bleed out begging for Motoya’s forgiveness. 

The only sensible member of Inarizaki stalks in, eyes alert at my presence. Aran. He’s been the only one to show compassion, I find no fault in him. We exchange a look before he talks.

“This isn’t a reunion, let’s go in.” 

Osamu falls behind Aran and I, slapping Suna on the back of his head and telling him how he needs to learn to shut the fuck up. I notice Aran’s posture, he’s all upright but it’s tense. He’s on edge, walking on eggshells he must sense something the rest of us can’t yet. 

The doors in front of us open and we’re in an empty room with nothing but mats surrounding the lone one at the front. We take our respective places. Two empty space on both sides of me, Motoya and the missing twin. Isolation is usually appreciated by me, but in a room with those three, it’s deadly. 

I try to look as bored as possible and focus on a small detail of the wooden flooring. Nothing shakes their presence off though. 

It’s worsen when the sliding door opens revealing the one we’re waiting for.

Everyone is quick to bow our heads upon seeing him but once I raise it,I realize he isn’t here. Kita’s sent one of his favorite carriers to appear in front of us. She awkwardly stands in front of us. 

“He’s not coming, not without a good reason.” A pretty girl who’s eyes dart around between the four of us, scanning for any indication of how to go about this situation. 

“Then how’s this gonna go? Cus I thought he was here.” Osamu explains. The woman pulls out a burner phone and places it on the ground. 

“Through phone. I’m just here to monitor.” She answers, as she makes haste to work the phone and call said man. She presses the screen one last time before setting it between us, I assume it’s on speaker. 

Even through an old phone, his presence is felt, “Go” Kita demands. 

“It’s about Atsumu, kind of.” Osamu slowly lets out.

“What is it that you want? Sakusa.” He addresses. 

“Answers about the hostages my cousin and I got sent to kill.” 

“I don’t see any importance in them, but sure.” He’s not even staring into my soul and it takes a lot to make my throat to not feel so dry.

“Eita’s girlfriend” Why am I so nervous? “She knew about the Embassy, I need to know why any of you would tell her.”

“I didn’t.” I can breathe, but it leaves it a mystery as to who did. 

Suna scoffs, “Is that really it? Sakusa are you actually okay?” He’s pissed, could have been out getting better firearms and tech. 

“No, she mentioned something weird.” Kita doesn’t respond. “She said that Atsumu was the one who told her and even tied them all down, I called her bullshit before killing her.” 

“And you think I would hide him? That Atsumu would be welcomed back so easily?” Kita questions me, fuck I knew this was going to be a difficult talk but I need my answers. I don’t get why saying that it was just a joke to get under my skin is so hard to admit to. 

Aran speaks out, “I was the one who put ‘em there. Can tell you Atsumu wasn’t there if that’s all you want to hear.” I nod in his direction, they’re avoiding telling me something. 

“Osamu, any progress?” Kita redirects the conversation after an unbearable silence. 

“No.”

“Then why do you continue to build those fucking robots. If they would have found him it should have already happened.” Kita was never a person to yell but something about his voice is commanding. It’s almost as if you’re destined to listen to it. 

I space out as Kita continues to chew out Osamu, pretty sure Suna and Aran are as well. Another memory pops up. 

_“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” The first time Kita tried my name on his tongue. We were 7._

_“You have to do what I say, right?” I nodded._

_“Then sit down.”_

_“The grass is dirty.”_

_“Sit.” He said in a low voice, no child should have this tone. So I sucked it up and got dirty. The mud staining my clothes._

_“Would you actually kill for me?” He asks._

_“I promised him.” I told Kita while pointing to the man beside him._

Osamu and Kita bicker, the same old story. Kita is disgusted that Osamu creates the very thing he hates. He calls Osamu a liability and useless, asks him if he does want to kill his twin or not. 

“Sakusa?”

“Yes Kita?” This is a familiar situation. 

“Are you unsatisfied still?” I pause, not wanting to continue this conversation. Not with Kita. 

“I take your silence as a yes. Now then, if I command you to go and find Atsumu yourself since you’re still so untrusting of my word, would you kill him?”

"No, I'll do you better. I'll let you and Komori go if you bring him to me. Do you understand me Sakusa?"

Everyone in the room freezes. But without hesitation and disregard for the history I have with the missing twin, I answer, “Yes.”

“Then bring me his beating or cold heart.” There’s a tone that tells us Kita has hung up. The woman picks up the phone and leaves the way she came from. Her eyes also are close to falling out their sockets. 

The others stare at me with slight remorse, they know a command from Kita no matter how impossible it sounds is needed to be carried. Though this? This is a taunting command to mine and Motoya’s freedom. 

I am left to think of where to start, because Miya Atsumu hasn’t been seen by anyone in years. 


End file.
